"Not now, damsel, I thank you. We have come but a short stage this morning." "Art thou fond of broidery?" "I love everything beautiful." "And nothing that is not beautiful?" "I did not say that, damsel." Belasez's smile showed a perfect row of snow-white teeth. "Am I fair enough to love?" asked Margaret laughingly. She had a good deal of her mother's easy tolerance of differences, and all her sweet affability to those beneath her. "Ah, my damsel, true love regards the heart rather than the face, methinks. I cannot see into my damsel's heart in one minute, but I should think it was not at all difficult to love her." "I want every body to love me," said Margaret. "And I love every body." "If my damsel would permit me to counsel her,--love every body by all means: but do not let her want every body to love her." "Why not?" "Because I fear my damsel will meet with disappointment." "Oh, I hate to be disappointed. Hast thou brought thine image with thee?" To Margaret this question sounded most natural. In the first place, she could not conceive the idea of prayer without something visible to pray to: and in the second, she had been taught that all Jews and Saracens were idolaters. She was surprised to see the blood rush to Belasez's dark cheek, and the fire flash from her eyes. "Will my damsel allow me to ask what she means? I do not understand." "Wilt thou not want to say thy prayers whilst thou art here?" responded Margaret, who was at least as much puzzled as Belasez. "Most certainly! but not to an image!" "Oh, do you Jews sometimes pray without images?" "Does my damsel take us for idolaters?" "Yes, I was always told so," said Margaret, looking astonished. The fire died out of Belasez's eyes. She saw that Margaret had simply made an innocent mistake from sheer ignorance of the question. "My damsel has been misinformed. We Israelites hold all images to be wicked, and abhorrent to the holy law." "Then thou wilt not want to set up an idol for thyself anywhere?" "Most assuredly not." "I hope I have not vexed thee," said Margaret, ingenuously. "I did not know." "My damsel did not vex me, as soon as I saw that she did not know." "And wouldst thou not like better to be a Christian than a Jew?" demanded Margaret, who could not imagine the possibility of any feeling on Belasez's part regarding her nationality except those of regret and humiliation. But the answer, though it came in a single syllable, was unmistakable. Intense pride, passionate devotion to her own creed and people, the deepest scorn and loathing for all others, combined to make up the tone of Belasez's "No!" "How very odd!" exclaimed Margaret, looking at her, with an expression of great astonishment upon her own fair, open features. "Is it odd to my damsel? Does she know what her question sounded like, to me?" "Tell me." "`Would she not like better to be a villein scullion-maid, than to be the daughter of my noble Lord of Kent?'"